#80s rock

[velvetvixenette]

I saw a picture on pinterest of Izzy’s parents and they are so beautiful and it's so cute that Izzy looks like them… I am so in love with his mother, that now I’m wondering if I would like to have her as my mother-in-law or my girlfriend

Understandable anon.

He’s clearly a blend of both his parents (though, of course, who isn’t?).

At first, I thought he resembled his mother the most, but after looking at his father, I realized just how many of his facial features he inherited from him.

I also found out that he was a total mama’s boy which is so so cute (I’ll be posting about it soon !!).

[possible-streetwear]

THE JESUS AND MARY CHAIN

[rock-n-roll-queen]

Axl was bored. The rockstar life sure was something every man dreamed of but at some point it could annoy the hell out of him and he needed something else. It was a spontaneous decision and he just packed a bag and left his home one night with no definite destination. He hadn‘t much with him and decided to stay away from places he‘d run the risk of being recognized, leaving him to travel from one cheap and ran down motel to the next, staying off the grid as much as possible. Problem was, after a few days he ran out of cash and now had to rely on his card. But what if the card didn‘t work anymore?

Authors Note:

Req. I had gotten weeks ago. This one has been written in multiple sessions and through multiple moods. As always like, reblog, comment and share! It’s much appreciated. Also I’m happy for constructive feedback. 𐙚⋆°｡⋆♡

Pairing : Axl Rose x Reader

Summary : A chance encounter, you meet a famous rockstar late at night at the gas station without knowing who he really is.

Rating : Mature, Adult Content

Warnings : explicit sexual content, , oral sex (male and female receiving), bondage, sub/dom, penetration, biting, mentions of various kinks

Words : 14.707

It was 1 a.m., and the quiet hum of the gas station lights buzzed above you as you filled up your bike. You’d been riding around for a while, the open road keeping you company, until the low fuel light blinked—time for a pit stop. After topping off the tank, you set the pump back in place and headed inside to pay.

The small store smelled faintly of cheap coffee and engine grease. You stood at the counter, idly tapping your fingers against it while waiting for the cashier to notice you. The place was nearly empty, just the quiet drone of a late-night shift.

Then, the door swung open with a sharp jingle. A man stormed inside, his heavy footsteps cutting through the stillness. Without a glance in your direction, he marched straight to the counter, a credit card pinched between his fingers.

“YOU!!” he barked, jabbing a finger at the startled cashier, obviously in a sour mood.

The young clerk’s eyes widened, his hands freezing mid-motion. He was clearly taken off guard and half panicked.

“H-hey, p-please calm down—” The boy stammered, clearly trying to defuse the situation.

“CALM DOWN?!” the man roared, his voice cutting through the soft hum of the overhead lights and the muffled music from the speakers. “YOU CANCELLED MY CARD! I WENT TO THE ATM, AND IT DISPENSED NOTHING!”

His fury filled the small space, thick and oppressive. The poor cashier, who couldn’t have been older than eighteen, was visibly shaking. His wide-eyed panic made it clear—he had no idea how to handle this.

The man took another step closer to the counter, his presence suffocating. You felt the urge to step in, to say something, but hesitated. He was livid, practically vibrating with rage, and the last thing you wanted was to become his next target.

“Sir, please calm down—” the boy tried again, his voice thin and unsteady.

But the strawberry-blond man wasn’t listening. His sheer intensity was enough to make you glad you weren’t the one behind the counter right now.

Then, without warning, BANG—he slammed his hands down. The sharp sound made both you and the cashier flinch.

“I WILL NOT!”

Another slam, harder this time. The whole counter rattled. Then he leaned in, face mere inches from the terrified boy, who instinctively leaned back—but the man only pressed forward.

“You get me my money,” he seethed, voice low and venomous, “or, God help me, I will beat your ass into oblivion.”

“Hey, man, calm down, okay?” The words left your mouth before you could think twice. The whole situation was making you uncomfortable—the way this guy towered over the cashier, spitting threats like they were nothing. Someone had to step in.

That got his attention. His head turned, eyes locking onto you. He took a quick scan, sizing you up.

“Who the hell are you?” he scoffed. “Stay out of this, sweetheart.”

You frowned. That nickname caught you off guard, and you didn’t appreciate being belittled. It was clear he didn’t take you seriously, and that alone irritated you.

“Just calm down. No need to be aggressive here.”

His expression shifted, but instead of snapping at you like you expected, he smirked. His eyes stayed on yours, a challenge lingering between you. You held his gaze, refusing to back down.

“You got a mouth on you, huh?”

Ignoring his comment, you continued, keeping your voice even.

“Listen, calm down and be respectful, okay? What’s the problem, anyway?”

He leaned slightly to the side, watching you like he was trying to read something between the lines.

“This damn bastard cancelled my card, and I need the cash for my motel. Now I’m stuck here because of him!” His voice was tight with frustration, fists clenching at his sides. Even as he tried to keep himself in check, the agitation rolled off him in waves.

You raised an eyebrow. “He cancelled your card?” You couldn’t hide the skepticism in your voice. How would a gas station cashier even do that?

The man glanced back at the boy before jabbing a thumb over his shoulder. “Dunno what exactly he did, but my card doesn’t work anymore, and it’s HIS FAULT!”

You exhaled slowly. This guy clearly had some issues—losing it over a declined card in the middle of the night.

“So you’re just assuming he did something? Sometimes ATMs glitch, you know. Have you tried again?”

His jaw tightened, and he took a step toward you. Instinctively, you shifted back to keep the distance.

“You think I’m stupid? Of course I did. My card gets denied every time.”

“Then how about trying one more time?” you suggested with a shrug. “Buy something small, see if it’s the card or just the ATM acting up.”

To your surprise, he didn’t argue. Instead, he turned sharply back to the cashier, slamming his card onto the counter.

“Gimme a pack of cigarettes.”

The poor kid scrambled to grab a pack from the shelf, hands fumbling as he scanned it. The register beeped.

“Card declined.”

The man rolled his eyes and shot the cashier a glare. “Fucking idiot,” he muttered, reaching to grab the pack anyway.

“S-sorry, sir, you have to pay first,” the cashier stammered, smiling nervously.

The man exhaled sharply, turning back toward the counter, and you could tell he was ready to start another argument. Before he could, you reached forward, holding out your own card.

The cashier hesitated, then quickly scanned it. Transaction approved.

A tense silence followed as both men stared at you.

You stepped forward, snatched up the pack, and met the man’s gaze. Without a word, you turned on your heel and walked out the door.

The door jingled again as you stepped outside, the cool night air brushing against your skin. You barely had time to glance up at the sky before hearing the chime a second time—he was following you. Not your intention, but it seemed your look had given him the impression that he should.

“Your card’s probably just blocked,” you said as he came to stand beside you. “You’ll have to get it sorted at your bank tomorrow. Shouldn’t take more than a few minutes.”

“Yeah? And what am I supposed to do until then?” He huffed, shoving his hands into his pockets. “Can’t pay for my motel. And why’d you pay for my cigarettes?” His gaze flickered to the pack still in your hand, his craving for nicotine evident in his tense posture.

You smirked, sliding a cigarette between your lips. “Who says I bought them for you?” you teased, looking up at him through your lashes. “And yeah, depending on your bank, you can get it fixed pretty fast.”

For a moment, he just stared, dumbfounded. Something flickered in his eyes—confusion, curiosity, maybe a mix of both. Then, without a word, he stepped closer, pulling out a lighter and flicking it open. You leaned in slightly, letting him light your cigarette before inhaling deeply and nodding.

“Thanks.”

As you looked around for a moment you barely glanced at the “NO SMOKING” sign plastered on the gas station wall before smirking to yourself. Strictly speaking, lighting up here wasn’t exactly allowed—not with all the fuel around—but neither of you seemed to care and who was gonna stop you anyway? The terrified clerk surely wasn‘t going to start arguing with the two of you again. You turned on your heel, heading back to your bike.

He watched you for a second before sighing, pulling out a near-empty pack from his jacket and lighting one himself. By the time he exhaled his first drag, he seemed a lot calmer.

“Nice bike you got there,” he commented, approaching as you settled onto the seat. He circled it slowly, inspecting it from every angle.

“Thanks. It’s my baby. My sweet little devil.” You grinned proudly, flicking some ash off your cigarette. “You ride too?”

“Mhm. Sometimes.” He took another drag before adding, “Ain’t nothin’ better than the open road at night. That adrenaline rush is unreal.”

You nodded, a small smile playing on your lips. “Agreed.” Then, after a beat, you glanced at him. “So, what’s the plan now?”

He shrugged, exhaling smoke into the night air. His eyes lingered on you, watching as you brought the cigarette to your lips again, the soft stretch of your neck catching his attention.

“Dunno yet. Gotta figure out where I’m sleeping.”

“Where were you supposed to stay?”

“Some cheap motel around the corner. Ain’t much, but I’m not picky. Except now, I’m screwed without cash or a working card.”

You didn’t need to know about him since you apparently were oblivious to who he was and why he’d pick a cheap motel over a high-end hotel—to stay off the radar.

He paused, then smirked, an idea forming in his head. You caught the shift in his expression and knew exactly what was coming. Raising a brow, you waited for him to say it.

“You don’t happen to know a place a poor guy like me could crash for the night, do ya?” His hands slid into his pockets, and he cleared his throat, playing up the innocent act.

“For free, you mean?”

“Free would be ideal, given my financial crisis.” He smirked slightly.

You snorted. “Hate to break it to you, but that’s highly unlikely.”

“Ah, damn. Guess this poor bastard’s sleeping on the street tonight, huh?” He joked, though there was a hint of hopefulness in his voice.

You exhaled smoke, watching it swirl in the air before glancing at him. “I can take you to the city. Maybe you’ll have better luck there.”

Not exactly the offer he was hoping for, but you weren’t about to let some random guy crash at your place. Still, you weren’t heartless enough to leave him stranded, either.

He pretended to think it over, then nodded. “Yeah, alright. I’ll take that offer. Better than the sidewalk.” Then, with a smirk, he added, “Not as good as the bed of a pretty lady, but, y’know, beggars can’t be choosers.”

You rolled your eyes and he chuckled, raising his hands in surrender. “Heh… just jokin’.”

You flicked away the cigarette butt, crushing it under your boot. “Enough talk. Hop on and hold tight—I don’t go slow.”

He didn’t need to be told twice. With a smirk, he swung a leg over the bike, gripping onto you as he settled in behind you.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart,” he murmured near your ear, “I can handle it.”

You sped onto the main road leading back to the city, the roar of your engine cutting through the silence of the night. His grip tightened around your waist, fingers flexing slightly as if realizing just how well they fit there.

“You weren’t kidding about not going slow, huh?”

Instead of answering, you smirked and twisted the throttle, accelerating even more. The sudden burst of speed made him gasp in surprise, and you could feel the shift in his hold—both bracing and intrigued. He hadn’t expected someone like you to ride with this much recklessness. It was a refreshing change. His hands slid lower, securing his grip.

“You’re not scared at all, are you?” he yelled over the wind, watching as you weaved effortlessly through the empty road, taking sharp turns without hesitation.

“Want me to slow down?” you called back with a chuckle.

“Hell no! I’m enjoying this. Keep going!”

You grinned and maintained your speed, the city lights growing closer in the distance. After a while, he spoke up again.

“Gotta say… you ride a hell of a lot more like a man than a woman.”

You chuckled, taking it as a compliment. You’d never been one for the stereotypical “shy and cute” act some girls put on. That wasn’t you, never had been. You weren’t about to bend to those expectations now.

“Yeah, I’ve always been a bit like a guy.”

He let out a low laugh, resting his chin lightly on your shoulder as he watched the road ahead.

“I like that about you. You’re not one of those weak, fragile little girls. There’s some fire behind that pretty face, I reckon.”

The buildings around you grew taller as you reached the edge of the city, neon signs flickering against the dark sky.

“Yeah, I’m not really into that whole damsel-in-distress thing. I can’t stand people who fake it.”

“I get that. I hate fake people too. Fuck ‘em,” he agreed, his grip shifting slightly. “That’s why I like you. You’re different.”

“You don’t even know me,” you shot back.

“I know enough,” he countered smoothly. “You stuck up for that kid at the gas station when you didn’t have to. You smoke and ride like you’ve got no fear of death knocking at your door. You let a complete stranger sit this close to you on your bike. And you drive like you own the damn road.” He leaned in slightly, voice dropping into something more amused. “I’m getting a pretty good idea of who you are, sweetheart.”

“Yeah, well, you were about to beat that poor boy’s ass. I had to do something. He nearly pissed himself.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know. I was fucking pissed,” he admitted. “I’ll admit—I got a short fuse.”

You didn’t respond, just shook your head slightly. He smirked at that.

“Oh, come on, don’t tell me you never lose it.” He was fishing, trying to get you to open up, to give him something real. Something he could work with. It bugged him how guarded you were, how you only gave away what you wanted. At the same time, he liked it. You were a puzzle, something different from the usual women who threw themselves at him. There was no way you knew who he was—if you did, you wouldn’t be acting this way. He wanted to keep it that way.

“Depends,” you admitted, keeping your eyes on the road. “Takes a lot to piss me off. But I won’t lie—I’ve got a crazy side too.”

His interest piqued immediately. “Oh, now I wanna see that. What does it take to bring that side out?”

You just shrugged, not giving him the satisfaction of an answer. He groaned in frustration behind you.

“Come on,” he coaxed, his voice laced with amusement. “I know there’s a little troublemaker in there somewhere. I bet you and I could get into all kinds of fun together.”

You smirked, arching a brow. “You think I’m the troublemaking type?”

“Oh, sweetheart…” He squeezed your waist just slightly, his smirk evident in his tone. “I’d bet on it.”

“Sweetheart, you ride this bike like you stole it. Not afraid to push the speed, not afraid to take risks—you got balls, girl. And I’ve only known you for twenty minutes.” He smirked, his grip firm on your waist. “I can definitely see you as a troublemaker.”

You sighed, unable to argue. He wasn’t exactly wrong.

“I’m actually a responsible woman, you know,” you countered, though your tone was playful. “Just with a tendency for flippancy now and then. Life’s too short to be boring.”

“So, you’re a responsible bad girl then, yeah?” His grin deepened, and his thumb absentmindedly began tracing slow circles over your stomach.

You noticed the touch immediately, the casual possessiveness of it, but you gave him no reaction—no satisfaction of acknowledging it.

“You could say that, probably.”

He hummed, still idly stroking the soft fabric of your shirt, feeling the warmth of your skin underneath. Without even realizing it, his hand moved slightly higher.

“A girl with a heart of gold but still causing trouble—that’s cute. I like that.”

“I keep it harmless, though. I’m not one to intentionally hurt anyone. I try to avoid fights, and so far, it’s always worked.” You shrugged, keeping your voice light.

“Heh… admirable,” he admitted. “I’m the opposite, to be honest. I have a hard time keeping calm. I let my temper get the best of me more often than I’d like to admit.” His voice held a hint of self-awareness. “Especially when I’m pissed. I’m a fight-first, think-later kind of guy, you know?”

“Yeah, I kinda figured,” you replied dryly. “Honestly, I hesitated before stepping in at the gas station. I wasn’t sure how you’d react—I was expecting you to snap at me, one hundred percent.”

To your surprise, he let out a genuine laugh.

“Maybe I would have jumped on that kid if you hadn’t stopped me.” He paused, as if considering something, then sighed. “I dunno… I guess you calm me down.”

The moment the words left his mouth, he regretted them. It sounded way too soft, too revealing.

“I mean—” he quickly backpedaled, “I just didn’t feel any anger when I looked at you.”

You raised a brow. “I reckon it’s because I’m a woman? Guys don’t usually see me as much of a threat, so there’s less aggression when I step in.”

“Maybe,” he admitted, “but… I dunno. There’s just something about you. You got that calming effect. Hard to describe.”

The city lights surrounded you now, bright against the night. Up ahead, an ATM glowed at the corner.

“Hey, there’s an ATM. Wanna try one last time?” you asked.

He followed your gaze, exhaling through his nose before nodding. He wasn’t exactly hopeful, but it was worth a shot. You slowed to a stop, and he reluctantly let go of you, swinging off the bike.

He approached the machine, slipped his card in, and followed the steps. Pin entered. Processing… He waited for the inevitable decline.

Instead, the screen flashed „Approved“.

The slot clicked, dispensing a neat stack of bills. He blinked in confusion, then quickly grabbed the cash and shoved it into his jacket pocket before turning back to you with a grin.

“Well, would you look at that. You’re my lucky charm, sweetheart.” He swung a leg over the bike again, settling in behind you.

“Perfect. Want me to take you back to your motel, then?”

He hesitated. He didn’t want to go back—not really. The thought of another empty night alone in that cheap motel wasn’t appealing. But what else was there to do?

He exhaled and rested his chin on your shoulder again, the warmth of your body against his oddly comforting.

“Yeah… back to the motel.”

You revved the engine and sped off toward the outskirts of town. The two of you fell into a comfortable silence, the rhythm of the ride and the rush of the wind filling the air. The stars above were a scattered blanket of light, growing brighter the further you drove into the dark, less light-polluted stretch of road. It was one of those rare moments where the world felt suspended in time, the night air cool against your skin as you shared this fleeting, quiet connection.

When you finally pulled up in front of the motel, the sound of the engine cut out with a low hum. You glanced over at him, the stillness of the moment hanging between you. He didn’t get off immediately, his hands lingering on your waist as if trying to delay the inevitable. The night didn’t seem quite ready to end for him, and you could see it in his posture—he wasn’t ready to let go yet. He could feel the weight of the quiet settling in, a sharp contrast to the usual loneliness he was used to.

His mind was a storm, torn between the urge to ask you and the fear of what you might say, each thought crashing against the other, making it harder to decide whether to ask you or not. He finally had to make a decision.

“Can I ask you something?” His voice came out softer than he wanted, a hint of uncertainty creeping in, stripping away his usual confidence. He cringed internally, his mind racing.

“Yeah, sure. What is it?” You asked, shifting slightly, your feet touching the ground as you turned your head, glancing at him from the corner of your eye.

He hesitated for a beat, then spoke, his words slow and measured, like he was testing them before they even left his mouth. “Would you… uh, would you mind staying with me for a bit longer? Just… hanging out, you know?” The words felt strange on his tongue, and he hated how vulnerable they made him sound. Axl Rose—frontman of one of the world’s greatest bands—and here he was, feeling like a damn schoolboy. He cursed himself for his nerves. Women didn’t turn him down, so why was this so different?

You glanced at the clock. Almost 3 a.m. “Don’t you wanna sleep? It’s pretty late.”

“Nah, I’m not tired,” he said, the words rushed. “I’m used to not sleeping much.” He leaned forward, resting his chin on your shoulder, his breath warm against your skin. His face was inches from yours, and you realized, for the first time, he hadn’t let go of your waist. His hands were still firmly on you. Silence stretched between you, the night air thick and unspoken tension hanging in the balance.

You reached into your pocket, pulling out your pack of cigarettes. Slipping one between your lips, you offered him one, which he took with a quiet nod. You lit it, leaning back against him, your head tipping back as you stared into the sky, the stars above gleaming brightly in the quiet of the night.

He couldn’t tear his gaze away from your face, his eyes fixated on the cigarette between your lips, hypnotized by the way the smoke curled into the night air. The way you inhaled, the steady rhythm of the movement, it was almost mesmerizing.

You exhaled, sending the smoke up into the cool air, and his focus didn’t waver. He watched, entranced, before his voice broke the silence.

“You’re even hotter like this,” he blurted, without hesitation or embarrassment. There was no shyness in his words—he meant it, completely and unabashedly, and he wanted you to know that.

You turned your eyes from the stars to his face, a soft chuckle escaping your lips.

“You think I’m hot?” The question was playful, confident, as if compliments were something you heard often, but rarely felt sincere.

He nodded, his eyes never leaving you. The way your back leaned into his chest, how your body felt pressed against him—it was comfortable, intimate in a way that surprised him.

“Yeah, I do. And it’s not just the cigarette. Although,” he smirked, “I’m definitely digging seeing you smoke.”

You took another drag, the glowing ember lighting up your face in soft, fiery hues. The night air felt charged, every inhale and exhale building an unspoken connection between you.

“Yeah, I agree,” you said casually, “smoking’s sexy as hell.”

He barely nodded, his focus completely on you. Something about watching you in this moment—smoking, so effortlessly beautiful—made it hard for him to look away. The way the smoke swirled up into the air was almost hypnotic.

“Yeah… I never really realized how hot smoking could make a woman look. But, honestly? No one looks as enticing as you right now. I think I might be developing a new fetish just from watching you.”

Your ears perked up, the hint of interest sharp in your voice.

“A new one? What are your others then?” you asked, a teasing tone lacing your words.

He smirked, clearly enjoying the direction of the conversation. “You really want to know?”

“Sure, skip the boring small talk and tell me something fun—something personal.” Your voice softened, just enough to hint at excitement.

He leaned closer, his breath warm against your ear as he whispered, “I’ve got a few, probably too many to list.”

“What’s your biggest one, then?” You nudged, trying to get him to open up.

He hesitated, his eyes trailing over your neck, before he finally muttered, “That would be biting, I suppose.”

“Biting?” you repeated, the thrill clear in your voice. “Yeah, I like that too. But not too hard, though. I’m not into drawing blood or anything.”

He chuckled softly, both surprised and amused by your frankness. The idea of marking you, leaving his mark, sent a thrill through him.

“Yeah, not many women like it. Most of them freak out when I bite them,” he said, shaking his head as if reliving the frustration.

“It always depends on how hard you bite,” you mused, “A little stinging pain can be nice, as long as it’s not too much. For me, anyway.”

His eyes lit up with the challenge. You weren’t as innocent as you looked, and that made him want to test the waters, to see how far he could push it. “Yeah, not everyone can handle it the way I do. I like it a little harder than most.”

He couldn’t help but imagine it—your neck exposed to him, your body pressed close. The idea of testing your limits was too tempting to ignore.

“So, what about you?” he asked, a grin tugging at his lips. “Any kinky sides to that angelic face of yours?”

There was a brief silence as you considered the question, taking another drag from your cigarette before answering.

“I’m into sub-dom play,” you said, almost casually.

His eyes widened, taken aback by how open and direct you were about your preferences. His pulse quickened, and he could feel the blood rushing to his face. It took him a moment to regain his composure.

“You have a sub-dom preference?” he asked, raising an eyebrow, intrigued. “Which one are you?”

You didn’t hesitate. “Well... I love both roles, but I can’t help but get weak when I’m dominated. But only when the guy knows what he’s doing.”

Your words stirred something in him, excitement building in his chest. The idea of having control, of leading you in a way that made you lose yourself—it was a powerful thought. But what intrigued him even more was the way you liked to let go, the way you craved someone who knew what they were doing.

“I like to get pampered in bed,” you continued, voice lowering, almost a whisper. “I like letting loose and just… letting him take control. He doesn’t need me to tell him everything. I want him to make me feel good, to know what I need without me saying it.”

His mind raced, a mix of admiration and desire surging through him. You were different—open, unashamed—and it only made him want you more. He’d been with a lot of women, but there was something about you, about how you talked, how you played with your desires, that made him want to give in to every urge.

“You like a guy who takes charge in bed?” he asked, his voice low and full of heat.

You shrugged, casual but with a glint in your eye. “Sometimes, yeah. But every now and then, I want to have my way too. I just love to tease and play too much to not take the lead sometimes.”

He liked that. The mix of control and surrender, the idea of playing, of teasing. It was like you were speaking his language.

You were special, he thought. No one else had ever made him feel this way—not with just words, but with how you looked at him, how you spoke about your desires. It ignited something in him, a hunger he hadn’t realized was there. He was ready to give in, to play by your rules—but only if you were willing to go as far as he was.

“What else?” Your voice cut through the silence of the night, pulling him back to reality for a moment. You were still leaned against him, both of you quietly smoking your cigarettes. Without realizing it, his hand on your stomach had begun drawing slow, soft circles over your shirt again.

“Well, marking what’s mine,” he said with a shrug. “I like everyone to see what belongs to me.”

“Ah, goes well with your biting,” you noted with a knowing look. “Anything more you’d like to share?”

He hesitated, unsure if he should continue. His list of kinks was long, but something held him back. The fear of scaring you off, of revealing something too intense too soon, lingered in the back of his mind. But before he could speak again, you spoke up.

“What about being bitten? Are you into that too, or do you just want to bite?”

“Not really. I don’t usually let anyone do that,” he said, his voice taking on a teasing tone. “But I think I’d let you.”

“Oh wow,” you responded, raising an eyebrow, “What an honor, huh?” You chuckled, a playful gleam in your eye. He smiled back, his own grin widening as he nodded.“ I’ll take that as a compliment. Do you have more?”

“Definitely.” He exhaled the smoke from his lungs, the night air filling his senses. “Bondage, blindfolds, tying people up, making them helpless and dependent on me. That’s my thing.” He said it bluntly, unable to suppress his curiosity about how you’d take it. He knew many women weren’t into such things—most of the world was pretty vanilla—but he was eager to see where you stood.

“FUCK NO!” You exclaimed, pulling away from his chest, your body shifting away as his hand slid off your stomach, the loss of contact leaving him cold and slightly disappointed.

“Hey, don’t judge me!” he said, trying to defend himself. His usual confidence returned, but there was a slight nervousness beneath it, the worry of pushing you too far.

“No, no, that’s not it… I’m not judging,” you said quickly, your voice softening. “It’s just… actually, I’m kinda into that too, I guess.”

“You guess?” He raised an eyebrow, a little surprised.

“I’ve never tried it, but I really want to,” you admitted, your voice low, but full of curiosity. “It sounds hot, and I think I could be into it.”

His mind raced. Every word you spoke made the scenario in his head feel more real. He had never met someone who seemed to align so closely with his desires. Not only did you seem to meet so many of his sexual kinks, but you were genuinely captivating—your beauty, your personality—it all fit together in a way that he hadn’t expected. You weren’t just a beautiful woman to have fun with. You were someone he could connect with, someone who was intelligent, fun, and willing to explore with him.

“I could tie you up pretty good, y’know?” His voice dropped an octave as his eyes locked with yours, searching for a sign of your true feelings.

You bit your lip, a sudden wave of excitement running through you. Were you really having this conversation in a shabby parking lot, sitting on your bike? For a moment, you hid behind the cigarette, taking a long drag before responding.

After exhaling the smoke, you finally said, “It requires trust and respect, you know.” Your eyes fell to the cigarette in your hand, the words feeling like an invitation in the air between you.

He leaned forward again, his chest pressing lightly against your back. “I respect that,” he murmured, his voice low, sending a shiver down your spine. His eyes were locked on your neck, and before you could react, his lips found your skin.

He kissed you softly at first, then deeper, his lips trailing down to your shoulder where he tugged gently at the collar of your shirt to expose more of your skin. You tilted your neck instinctively, offering him more access. He didn’t hesitate, moving his lips down the soft curve of your neck, occasionally biting, testing the waters. Each nibble grew more intense, the pressure building as you didn’t pull away. Instead, you welcomed it.

The sensation sent a wave of shivers down your spine, a mix of pleasure and slight pain, but it was intoxicating. His lips moved over your skin with purpose, and each time he bit down, the feeling deepened and you felt electric waves running from his lips on your skin, making you wet. Your body responded automatically, leaning into him as his hand traveled down your side toward your thigh, caressing you gently. The soft bite on your shoulder left a mark, and the sensation of his lips, his teeth, and the pressure of his body against yours, made your mind go hazy.

Your legs spread further apart, leaning into his touch. It felt as if your body was on autopilot, craving more. His fingers moved lower, tracing the inside of your thigh, inching closer to the warmth beneath your clothing. Your breath hitched, the tension between you growing thick with anticipation.

His fingers wandered closer to the inside of your thigh, his touch gentle yet possessive. He was still leaving bite marks all over your neck.

“I think… we should head inside now, no?” you mumbled softly, not wanting to cause a scene outside the motel, straddling your bike like this.

He chuckled, clearly enjoying teasing you out here, but you were right. People might still see, and he didn’t want to give them anything to gossip about.

“Yeah, we should. We’ll have more privacy in my room anyway…”

“Yes.” You flicked your cigarette to the ground, grinding it out with the tip of your boot before getting off the bike to lock it.

He followed, stepping toward you with an easy confidence, his hand slipping around your wrist, tugging you closer again. The warmth of his fingers sent a shiver up your spine.

„Wait here for a moment.“ He whispered in your ear, his hand not letting go of your wrist until both of your arms stretched.

Axl made a quick stop at the motel reception. The place was dimly lit, the air thick with the scent of stale cigarettes and cheap air freshener. He pulled out a few bills from his jacket, sliding them across the counter.

“Make it two more.“ He grumbled, extending his time in this cheap motel for two more nights.

The receptionist barely looked up as they took the bills with a bored expression. Axl didn‘t mind that behavior, he was just glad they didn‘t ask any questions. He headed back outside, where you waited by your bike, the orange glow of the streetlights casting long shadows across your face. Without hesitation, he walked up to you, fingers brushing against your wrist.

Without a word, he led you to his motel room door, unlocking it and pushing it open, standing aside to let you in first.

As soon as you stepped inside, he followed, shutting the door behind him and locking it. A small sigh escaped him, relief washing over his features now that you were alone.

He took a step closer, hands finding your hips as he looked down at you, a smirk playing on his lips.

You gazed up at him, waiting—curious.

For a moment, he said nothing, just admiring you. The dim motel lighting cast soft shadows over your skin, highlighting the marks he’d left along your neck and collarbone. He thought you had never looked sexier.

Then, his voice dropped lower. “Turn around for me.”

You held his gaze for a beat before slowly turning on the spot, anticipation humming beneath your skin.

A quiet hum of approval rumbled in his throat as he gently took hold of your arms, bringing them behind you, his grip firm but not forceful. He held your wrists in one hand, using the other to explore—trailing down your sides, fingertips grazing the hem of your shirt before giving it a light tug.

You inhaled deeply, letting yourself sink into the sensation.

Slowly, he began lifting your shirt, exposing inch after inch of warm skin. He took his time, as if savoring every new detail revealed to him, before finally pulling it over your head and tossing it to the floor. His gaze lingered on you, drinking in the sight of your bare shoulders, the soft curve of your back, the marks he’d already claimed you with.

Still gripping your wrists, he traced a finger along the strap of your bra, following it down to where it fastened at your back. He toyed with the clasp, fingertips ghosting over your skin as he worked it open with an unhurried patience.

With a small hum of satisfaction, he finally unhooked it, his movements deliberate as he slipped the straps down your arms, releasing your wrists to pull it free and let it fall to the floor.

He took another moment just to look at you. Admiring. Possessing.

A slow hand ran up your arm, tracing to your shoulder. You turned your head slightly, catching a glimpse of him through the corner of your eye. His expression was dark—hungry.

The moment stretched, thick with anticipation, before he finally leaned in, lips brushing against your shoulder. He started slow, pressing soft kisses along your skin, but they quickly turned more insistent, his mouth trailing up the side of your neck, tongue flicking over the marks he’d already left.

A soft hum escaped you at the sensation.

His hands settled on your hips again, grounding you, keeping you steady as he continued his slow exploration, mouth alternating between kisses and bites. Testing. Teasing.

You leaned back against his chest, giving him better access, surrendering to the way he was claiming you.

“You never told me your name…” you murmured.

He chuckled against your skin, the warmth of his breath sending a shiver through you. For a moment, he didn’t answer, choosing instead to press a lingering kiss to your neck before finally whispering,

“It’s Axl.”

“Hmm…” Your lips curled into a small, knowing smile.

He rewarded you with another kiss, this time just below your ear, before resuming his slow, deliberate path down your neck, shoulders, spine. His hands were moving again, tracing over your waist, your stomach, lower—until his fingers found the waistband of your pants.

You let your head rest on his shoulder, exposing more of your neck to him in silent invitation.

He hummed in approval and undid the button of your shorts, fingers slowly dragging the zipper down. The sound of it in the quiet room sent a fresh wave of heat through you.

He let them fall, hands steadying you as he guided the fabric over your hips, down your thighs, until they pooled around your ankles. He took another moment to simply look at you, drinking in every inch of bare skin now revealed to him.

Then, pressing himself against your back again, he resumed his slow assault on your neck, lips and teeth trailing over your shoulder blades. His hold on you tightened just enough to make you feel it.

You let your eyes flutter shut, giving yourself over to the sensation. He was patient. Unhurried. Exactly what you’d been craving.

When he bit down again, just above your collarbone, a sharp gasp escaped you.

He groaned at the sound, clearly loving the way you reacted to him. His lips soothed the sting of each bite, only to move and sink his teeth into another untouched patch of skin.

Every time he did it, you gasped or moaned softly, the sharp pleasure making your pulse quicken.

His hands found your waist again, pulling you closer against him, keeping you flush against his body as his lips ghosted up the side of your neck.

Then, in a breathless murmur against your ear, he finally spoke.

“Are you enjoying this, baby?”

His voice was a low, possessive growl in your ear, his grip firm as he held you close. His lips dragged over your neck, his teeth grazing the skin before pressing another hot, lingering kiss. He wasn’t asking for reassurance—he already knew you were enjoying it. He just wanted to hear you say it.

You smirked, arching your back against him slightly. “Mmm… I don’t know… maybe you should try a little harder?”

Axl stilled for half a second before a dark chuckle rumbled in his chest. You were playing with fire, and he fucking loved it.

“That so?” His hand suddenly tightened on your waist, pulling you flush against his body. “Guess I’ll have to remind you who’s in charge then.”

Your smirk faltered slightly, replaced by a sharp inhale. His fingers traced down your thigh, teasing but firm, before sliding back up with a possessive squeeze.

“I’m listening,” you hummed, feigning innocence, though the heat in your voice gave you away.

He smirked against your skin. “Oh, you will be, baby. Every single word.”

You only heard some shuffling behind you, his hands leaving their touch on your body. Without another warning, he grabbed your wrists and expertly secured them behind your back with his belt. The leather bit into your skin—not painfully, but just enough to remind you who was in control. He tested the restraint with a sharp tug, satisfied with the way you gasped.

“There we go. Nice and tied up for me.”

You let out a small, teasing whimper. “Mmm, you should’ve said you wanted me helpless sooner…”

Axl huffed out a low laugh before shoving you forward onto the bed. Your body bounced slightly on the mattress, and you barely had time to adjust before he was on top of you, his presence overwhelming as he caged you in.

He leaned in close, his breath hot against your ear. “Helpless? Oh, sweetheart… you’re not helpless. If anything, you’re about to be ruined.”

A sharp thrill shot down your spine at his words, heat pooling low in your belly. You couldn’t stop the smirk that tugged at your lips. “Big talk… hope you can back it up.”

The second the words left your mouth, he grabbed your hips and yanked you back against him, his hard, unmistakable arousal pressing against you. You leaned forward, hands tied to your back while your ass stuck up in the air, on full display for him.

You gasped, your cheek pressing harder into the sheets.

“Still doubting me?” His voice was pure sin, dripping with amusement and dominance.

You swallowed, shifting your hips back against him just to be a little shit. “Mmm, I don’t know… I guess we’ll see—”

A sharp smack landed on your ass, cutting you off.

Your moan was instant, your body betraying you as you arched into his touch.

“That’s what I thought,” Axl murmured, running his palm over the sting he left behind.

You bit your lip, fighting back another moan. “Mmm, do that again.”

His smirk was audible. “Oh, baby. You have no idea what you’ve just asked for.”

With one swift motion, he pushed your panties to the side, dragging his fingers through your slick folds. He let out a low groan at how drenched you already were.

“Fuck,” he muttered, more to himself than to you. “You love this, don’t you?”

You hummed, rocking your hips slightly into his touch. “I mean… maybe just a little.”

Axl chuckled darkly, leaning down to murmur against your ear.

“Guess I’ll just have to make you admit it properly, then.”

And with that, he pressed a finger inside you, swallowing your gasp with a satisfied smirk.

“Hmm!! Y-yesss!” you groaned, eyes squeezed shut, back arching against the mattress.

Axl didn’t waste time. He shoved another digit inside you, curling them just right. Your mouth fell open with a loud moan, only for him to yank his hand back and push those same fingers into your mouth without warning. His fingers pressed against your tongue, coated in your arousal, and your eyes shot open in shock. The musky, sweet taste of yourself spread across your tongue as he smirked above you.

“Look at you,” he murmured, his voice thick with desire. “Sucking on my fingers like a good little slut. And to think…” He dragged his lips over your ear, his breath hot. “I haven’t even fucked you yet.”

A needy moan escaped your throat, muffled by his fingers. Your hips instinctively pushed back against him, desperate for more.

He chuckled, clearly entertained by your reaction. “You’re such a needy little thing,” he mused, keeping his fingers in your mouth as his free hand slid over your body, tracing your curves, teasing you like you weren’t already dripping for him. When his fingers finally reached your throat, he pressed just enough to make you gasp.

“You want more, baby?”

You nodded without hesitation, your lips still wrapped around his fingers as you sucked on them slowly, deliberately.

That earned you a low, dangerous laugh. “Oh, you love testing me, don’t you?”

Before you could react, his fingers were gone from your mouth. Then—smack.

The sting on your ass came fast and hard, a sharp crack breaking the stillness of the room. You yelped, a gasp mixed with a moan, pleasure colliding with pain in a way that made your walls squeeze together involuntarily.

“Fuck,” you whined, the burn still tingling deliciously on your skin.

Axl grinned. “What was that? You clenching around nothing like a desperate little thing, hm?” His hands ran over your ass, soothing, only to slap again, harder this time.

You moaned unabashedly, lifting your hips in silent invitation.

He took his time admiring you, his hands kneading your ass possessively. “You got such a nice ass, you know that?” He smirked, trailing his fingers lazily down the swell of your curves. “Could do all sorts of things to you like this…”

The words hung in the air, his touch featherlight now, teasing. Then, without warning, he pushed you forward, pressing your cheek against the mattress further, one strong hand gripping the back of your head, holding you in place.

The power shift sent a thrill down your spine. You were completely at his mercy—helpless, tied up, face buried in the sheets while he loomed behind you. You whimpered when you felt him grind against you, his hard length pressing into your soaked panties.

His grip on your hip tightened as he rutted against you slowly, letting you feel how much he wanted you. “You feel that, baby?” he murmured darkly. “This is what you do to me.”

You bit your lip, tilting your head to the side just enough to meet his gaze. “Mmm, maybe you should do something about it.”

He let out a quiet, dangerous chuckle. “Oh, sweetheart,” he murmured. “You really don’t know when to shut that pretty mouth, do you?”

Before you could respond, he grabbed your hair and yanked you up, forcing you to kneel against his chest.

“Hmm, fuck yes, I do!” you gasped, your body already responding to the shift in control.

Axl smirked, pushing his hips against you again, making sure you felt every inch of him through his pants. “That’s what I thought.” One of his hands trailed down, slipping effortlessly into your panties again. His fingers found your clit with ease, dipping lower and smearing your slickness across the sensitive bundle of nerves.

Your body melted against him instantly. “Ohhh… fuck—”

“That’s it, baby,” he growled, holding you by the hair, his fingers rubbing slow, agonizing circles over your clit. “Feels good, doesn’t it?”

You nodded, your head falling back against his shoulder.

His grip on your hair tightened slightly. “Use your words.”

“Feels so good,” you moaned, pressing your thighs together, trying to chase the pleasure.

He let out a pleased hum. “That’s my girl.”

Your breathing grew heavier, your moans louder, and he could feel your body trembling against his. He knew exactly how close you were. He could feel it.

And then—he stopped.

Before you could react, he shoved you forward, pressing your face back into the mattress, your tied hands straining behind you.

“Wh—” you choked out, frustration hitting you like a wave.

Axl smirked at the whimper you let out, leaning down until his lips brushed your ear. “Awww, what’s wrong, baby?” he taunted. “Something not to your liking?”

You groaned in frustration, trying to move, but he had you completely trapped.

He laughed, dragging his hand lazily over your ass. “Speak to me. Tell me what’s wrong.”

You huffed, pressing your forehead against the mattress, stubborn.

Another sharp slap. “I asked you a question, sweetheart.”

You let out a shaky breath. “I—I was close…”

Axl hummed, his fingers sliding between your legs again, barely grazing your dripping entrance.

“That close, huh?” His head hovered over your ass, his stubble tickling your sensitive, irritated skin.

“Yes,” you groaned, pressing back against his hand, desperate.

He chuckled darkly. “And what do we say when we want something, hmm?”

You clenched your jaw. You knew what he wanted. But you were too damn stubborn. So you stayed silent.

Another slap, this time to your thigh. You whimpered.

“What? Cat got your tongue?” His fingers resumed their lazy, teasing circles over your clit.

Your body shuddered. You were so fucking close again, and he was still toying with you. You hated it. You loved it.

“No… just—just let me finish, damn it.”

He smirked, satisfied. “Hmm… you wanna cum?”

Your pride screamed at you to stay quiet, but the aching between your legs was unbearable. “Yes,” you finally admitted. “Please…”

He raised an eyebrow. “That didn’t sound convincing.”

You groaned, writhing against him. “Please… please, oh god, I need it so bad… I can’t take it anymore… I’m begging you… please…”

Axl’s smirk widened. “That’s my good girl.”

He shifted, his face between your thighs from behind. Without another word, he dragged his tongue over your clit, sucking the swollen bud into his mouth as two fingers pushed into you. His pace was merciless, his tongue flicking and circling with expert precision. Your thighs trembled violently as heat coiled deep inside you, tightening—tightening—

You screamed into the mattress, your orgasm ripping through you like a violent storm. Your entire body shook as wave after wave of pleasure crashed over you. Axl didn’t stop, his mouth lapping up everything you gave him, his tongue slow and teasing as he drew out every last aftershock.

You barely had time to recover before he te mattress dipped again and then you heard the door click open.

Your dazed, fucked-out brain struggled to process it.

And then—click.

The door shut.

You lifted your head sluggishly, eyes widening in realization. He was gone. Axl had left you there—still tied up, still bent over the bed, completely exposed, completely helpless. Your breath hitched, a mix of frustration and arousal swirling in your gut.

That bastard.

When you finally caught your breath, the high of your orgasm fading, you became aware of the dull ache in your shoulders and arms. They throbbed from being bent back and bound for so long. You had no idea how much time had passed—it felt like hours—when you heard the door open again. You couldn’t see him from your position, leaving you to wait, heart pounding, anticipation curling in your stomach.

Footsteps. Then warmth as he moved beside the bed, his presence overwhelming even before he spoke. A soft kiss landed on your cheek, unexpected after how he had just used you. Then, without a word, he untied your wrists. The moment the restraint was gone, you sighed, rubbing your sore skin, stretching your stiff arms.

A deep chuckle rumbled from his chest. He didn’t move away. Instead, he stood there, watching.

Your breath hitched when you realized his gaze was lingering, traveling slowly over your body—your flushed skin, the way you still knelt there in nothing but your panties, the lace bunched around your thighs. He was taking his time, eyes dark, contemplative, hungry.

You shivered.

The shift in energy was dizzying. A moment ago, he had been so rough, so relentless. Now, the way he was looking at you—like you were something precious, something delicate—made your chest tighten. No man had ever looked at you like that before. It sent a different kind of heat through you, made you feel both vulnerable and powerful all at once.

Still rubbing your wrists, you barely had time to register his next words before his deep, commanding voice cut through the silence.

“Come here.” He patted his lap.

A fresh wave of need rolled through you. That voice. It did something to you.

You obeyed instantly, crawling into his lap, your body fitting against him as if it belonged there.

His fingers trailed along your jaw, tilting your face up to meet his gaze. “You’re okay?”

You closed your eyes at the gentle touch, leaning into it, the contrast between his tenderness and the control he wielded over you making you dizzy. “Yeah… my wrists are a little sore, but I’m okay.”

He smirked, lifting your hands to his lips and pressing soft kisses to each wrist. “Yeah, I’ll admit… the restraints weren’t exactly ideal. I had to improvise.”

You exhaled a quiet laugh, surprised by the tenderness in his voice. “It was… effective,” you teased, a smirk playing on your lips. “You wanted me helpless, and, well… it worked.”

His dark eyes gleamed with amusement. “That’s the whole point, isn’t it?” He leaned in slightly. “Did you like it?”

You rolled your eyes, knowing he already knew the answer. “I think you know I did,” you said playfully.

His grin widened. “Good. But you were barely restrained.” His finger traced your jaw again, drifting lower, over the swell of your chest, his touch featherlight. “There’s so much more I could do to you.”

A shiver ran down your spine as his hands ghosted lower, his thumbs brushing over your nipples, teasing you. “If you can take it, that is. But you did so well for me just now… I know you could.”

You swallowed hard, heart hammering, his praise making you ache for more. “How much more?” Your voice was barely above a whisper.

His smirk deepened. “So much more.”

His fingers ghosted lower, his touch barely there, but enough to make you squirm. “Tied up properly this time. Helpless while I use you over and over again.” His hands were on you now, palms warm against your bare skin, thumbs circling your hardened peaks. “You think you can handle that?”

A breath caught in your throat, your body trembling in anticipation. The way he was watching you, the heat in his voice, the promise in his words—it sent liquid fire through your veins.

“I can take it,” you whispered. “I can take anything you give me… I want to be good for you.”

He let out a low chuckle, the sound vibrating against your skin. “Careful with your words, sweetheart. Not everyone can take it.” His fingers tightened slightly, teasing you. “You really want to try?”

You moaned softly at the pressure, your resolve unwavering. “I don’t care,” you breathed. “Please… I want to try.”

He hummed in satisfaction. “Stand up.”

Your pulse quickened at the sudden command, but you obeyed without hesitation, pushing yourself up and standing before him, bare and waiting.

He rose from the bed, his presence towering over you as he walked around, retrieving something—a rope. Your stomach tightened. He must have bought it from the gas station just now when he left you lying here.

The air crackled between you as he moved behind you, binding your wrists first, then your ankles. His fingers were deft, ensuring the knots were firm yet not painful, limiting your movement just enough. The restraint sent a thrill through you.

“On your knees,” he ordered.

You sank down, the rough fibers of the rope biting into your skin as you settled onto the floor. Vulnerable. Exposed. Completely at his mercy.

He took a step back, admiring his work, a satisfied smirk playing on his lips. “You trust me, don’t you?”

Your heart pounded. You met his gaze, and despite the restraints, despite the position he had put you in, you felt safe.

“Yes,” you said softly. “I trust you.”

His smirk widened as he stepped closer, tilting your chin up between his fingers, forcing you to look at him.

“Now,” he murmured, his voice a slow drag of anticipation. “How bad do you want it?”

The way he looked at you—the hunger, the control, the need—made your stomach clench with desire. You couldn’t take it anymore.

“Please,” you whispered, your voice trembling with desperation. “Please, I want it so badly.”

His thumb brushed over your lower lip, pulling it down slightly. “Good girl.”

He reached for the waistband of his pants, undoing the button with one hand. The sound of the zipper made your thighs clench together. Then his pants dropped, and you caught your breath.

He was bigger than you expected.

Your mouth went dry, your eyes widening slightly as he freed himself, stroking his thick length slowly. Teasing you.

“You remember what you said, don’t you?” His voice was a dark promise.

You swallowed, your entire body aching for him. “Yes,” you whispered, barely able to breathe. “I’ll take it. Please… let me take it.”

His hand went behind your head, grip tightening in your hair, pulling you closer. The heat of his cock was right there, inches from your lips.

“I won’t hold back,” he warned.

A rush of arousal flooded you. “I don’t want you to hold back,” you murmured. “I can take it.”

He exhaled sharply. “Open up, sweet girl.”

You obeyed instantly, parting your lips, surrendering to him.

His fingers tangled in your hair as he guided himself between your lips, pushing deep, filling your mouth, making your throat stretch around him.

A groan slipped from his lips. “Fuck.”

You barely had time to brace yourself before he pushed deeper, your throat tightening as you tried to take him. You gagged slightly but forced yourself to stay still, to let him have you the way he wanted. You could feel the tip poking into the back of your throat, restricting your airpipe.

He exhaled a slow, shaky breath. “That’s it,” he murmured. “Just like that.”

He pulled back, then thrust forward again, setting a pace, his hand gripping the back of your head. You let him take what he wanted, let yourself be exactly what he needed.

And you loved every second of it.

He started pulling back and thrusting in again, slow at first, but quickly picking up speed, fucking your throat with deep, deliberate strokes.

Your moans vibrated around him, muffled and desperate. Your throat still fought to adjust, each thrust pushing you further into submission. The stretch, the pressure—it was overwhelming, but you craved it. Your gag reflex fought against him, your body’s instincts betraying your devotion, but you refused to pull away. You wanted this. You wanted to take everything he gave you, to be exactly what he wanted.

Heat pooled between your legs as you surrendered, pleasure and obedience intertwining. You let yourself be used, let him claim your mouth, and the helplessness only aroused you more. You moaned again, your body shivering as your arousal dripped down your thighs, the ache between them unbearable. You needed him. You needed more.

His grip tightened in your hair, keeping your head steady as he pushed deeper. A sharp gasp left his lips, his breath ragged as he bottomed out. You felt him throb against your tongue, felt the weight of him fill your mouth completely. Then he stilled.

You tensed, the realization hitting you—he wasn’t moving. He was keeping you there, his cock lodged in your throat, blocking any chance to breathe. Your lungs burned almost instantly, your muscles tensing as you fought the instinct to struggle. Your heartbeat pounded in your ears, mixing with his low groans of pleasure.

“Fuck,” he murmured, almost to himself. His fingers tightened their hold, keeping you exactly where he wanted. “You feel so good like this.”

Your vision blurred at the edges, dark spots creeping in, your body trembling as oxygen slipped further away. But the dizzying rush of submission, of knowing he was in complete control, sent another wave of heat between your legs. You felt lightheaded, floating in that hazy space between pleasure and surrender, your mind slipping deeper into submission.

Finally, just as your body threatened to give out, he pulled back. His cock slid from your mouth with a wet gasp, a string of saliva still connecting you. You slumped forward, dragging in ragged, desperate breaths, your chest rising and falling rapidly. Your lips tingled, your throat raw, but your entire body pulsed with need. Your makeup was ruined, mascara streaking down your cheeks, but the way he looked at you made you shiver.

He ran a hand over your jaw, tilting your face up, his expression dark and full of hunger.

“Look at you,” he murmured, his voice thick with satisfaction. “Such a good girl for me.”

A deep shiver ran down your spine. Your body ached for him, your skin burning with need. You had never felt more owned than in that moment, never craved him more.

You looked up at him, your face a mess, makeup smudged and smeared. But it was all worth it, just to see the satisfied gleam in his eyes.

His hand caressed your cheek, gently wiping away the tear that slipped down.

“Do you want to keep going?”

You leaned into his touch, your breath shaky, and nodded slowly, the tension in the air thickening.

“Yes… please… I want you to keep going. I’m your good girl, I can take it.” You whispered, your voice trembling with need, barely able to contain the desperation that clawed at you.

His grin widened, dark and knowing, as his hand gripped your hair, pulling you slightly closer, his breath hot against your skin. With a slow, deliberate step forward, you couldn’t help but let your gaze fall to his tip—hard, thick, and standing proudly in front of you. Your mouth watered, but still, he didn’t move.

You opened your mouth again, eager, your body trembling with anticipation, but he held himself back. His eyes were locked on yours, watching, as if he was savoring your struggle, the way your chest rose and fell with each shaky breath.

You felt your patience snap. The need, the hunger in your veins was too much. You leaned forward, desperate to close the distance, your lips aching to taste him, but he didn’t give in. His smirk only deepened, knowing exactly how much it was driving you mad, how badly you wanted him. He stood there, teasing, controlling, his dominance wrapping around you tighter than ever.

You kneeled before him, your body bound, restricted in movement, but your head was free.

“Your turn,” he said simply, his voice low, his eyes never leaving you. He was curious to see what you would do next.

You still felt a little dizzy from before, your body humming with the aftermath, but your mind was clear enough to know exactly what was expected of you. Slowly, you leaned forward, your body straining against the ropes, but you managed to close the distance, your mouth hovering just inches from him. Your eyes met his, a silent question in them, a plea.

I would love to pleasure you, if you’d let me. Please.

He watched you, his gaze steady, filled with curiosity and desire. You leaned in, but instead of taking him fully into your mouth, you kissed the tip softly, gently—a tender act that surprised him.

He stayed still, the surprise flickering in his eyes before his lips curved into a slight smirk. The sweetness, the gentleness of your touch was unexpected, yet it sent a wave of pleasure through him. It wasn’t what he had anticipated, but somehow, it felt even better. This side of you, so different from what he imagined, was even more intoxicating than he could have ever guessed.

You kept going, switching up your techniques, your lips tracing along his sides, soft kisses and teasing licks that made him twitch beneath you. You focused on the tip, taking him into your mouth a few times, savoring the taste, deliberately taking your time, letting each movement drive him wild. You could feel his heat against your tongue, the pressure building in your chest as you tried to catch your breath, knowing you’d need it for what was coming next.

He watched you, his gaze dark and hungry, his chest rising and falling as he let you take your time. He could tell you were catching your breath after taking him so deep before, but there was something about the way you teased him, taking small, slow tastes, that sent a spark of desire through him. Normally, he would’ve urged you on, impatient to feel more, but something about you—about the way you moved so intentionally, so seductively—made him want to let you keep control for now. He couldn’t help but enjoy the way you kissed and licked, drawing him closer with every deliberate touch.

But soon, you felt him shift beneath you, the tension in his body growing. His patience was wearing thin, the desire building to a point where he couldn’t wait any longer. You knew exactly what that meant—he wanted you deeper. His unspoken demand sent a thrill through you, and you shifted on the ground, adjusting yourself, preparing for the next step.

You could feel him starting to grow impatient, despite letting you set the pace. His need for more was becoming evident, the desire to be buried deep in your throat again making him tense. His eyes locked on you as he saw you shift on the ground, adjusting your position. He knew exactly what was coming next, and anticipation sparked in him. He was eager, hoping you would do as well as before. He tried to stay focused on you, on what you were doing, letting you control the moment for now.

You opened your mouth, your eyes never leaving his as you held his gaze. Slowly, you pushed your head forward, inch by inch, your lips parting to take him in. You could feel him twitch, his erection disappearing into your warm, soft mouth, and you watched him carefully, savoring the moment.

He felt himself sliding deeper, the heat of your mouth enveloping him. The sensation of being swallowed by you was familiar, but what he didn’t expect was the intensity of your eye contact as you took him in. It was a challenge to his usual control, a vulnerability from you that he hadn’t anticipated, but one that made him feel something deeper, something unexpected. For once, he wasn’t the one in charge. The way you surrendered to him in that moment, so utterly vulnerable, sent a jolt of something electric through him.

He watched you, his gaze locked with yours as he felt the warmth of your soft lips taking him in. His heart started to race, an unexpected rush flooding him. It felt different, even for him, and despite how little time you had known each other, this moment felt incredibly intense.

He was losing himself in the sensations of your mouth—your tongue, your lips, the way you enveloped him. He fought to keep control, but you were making it harder for him. The need to give you more, to feel you take him deeper, grew inside him. He reached out, one hand gripping your hair, pulling you forward gently, while his other hand lifted your chin, guiding you, showing you exactly what he wanted. Though deep down, he already knew you understood.

You responded quickly, bobbing your head back and forth, pushing as deep as you could, slowly working your throat with each movement. With every inch, you pushed further, your throat contracting, and you gagged slightly, your eyes watering as you fought to take him. His thumb brushed softly over your jaw, a quiet gesture of reassurance, encouraging you to keep going, even as he felt the pressure building in him.

You pushed harder, your rhythm quickening, and soon, he was bottoming out, the heat of your mouth driving him wild. His eyes fluttered closed, the sensation overwhelming, before he whispered, his voice rough with pleasure.

“Oh yes… fuck, that’s so good.”

He felt you going deeper, your throat opening to take him fully, and he couldn’t hold back the soft moans escaping his lips. The pleasure was overwhelming, and he reached out to steady himself, his hands gripping your hair, guiding you.

His words, a mixture of praise and encouragement, flowed freely, each one urging you on, making you want to go further. You could feel it—his pleasure, his need—and you were determined to make him feel good, to push yourself for him. It wasn’t easy, but the challenge only heightened the thrill, and his words reassured you, made you feel good about what you were doing. You looked up at him, your eyes full of desire and submission, wanting to please him, to be good for him.

You felt him twitch inside your mouth, a sign you were doing it right, and you increased your pace, bobbing faster, your throat working harder to accommodate him. But the deeper you tried, the stronger your gag reflex became. Still, the thrill of hearing his moans, feeling his pleasure, pushed you on. He was losing control, the build-up of his orgasm coming much too fast.

Suddenly, he pulled you off, his grip on your hair tight, and without a word, he grabbed you under your arms, lifting you effortlessly. You gasped as he threw you onto the bed, your body bouncing against the soft surface.

You were completely caught off guard, eyes wide with surprise as you lay there, vulnerable and exposed. Your arms were tied behind you, leaving you helpless, and the only thing left covering your body were your panties. A mix of fear and excitement surged through you as you looked up at him, unsure of what would come next. The uncertainty made your heart race, and though you felt vulnerable, there was an undeniable thrill in knowing he was in complete control now.

He quickly stepped forward, moving you over the mattress until your head hung over the edge. „Now take it like the dirty little thing you are!“

He positioned himself again and looked down and your eyes widened as he moved her over the bed, understanding what he wanted. You had no choice but to take it, hands tied behind your back, and him being above. You felt like a prey, at his mercy.

You held her head up and opened your mouth. He guided his length into your mouth, pushing so deep into you that you started gagging loudly, almost throwing up this time. He looked down to see the veins in your neck protrude, his big cock straining against your throat.

He could see the struggle in your body as he pushed deeper, your throat stretching to accommodate him. The lack of control, with your hands bound, made it all the more intense—completely at his mercy.

A groan escaped his lips as he gripped your breasts, his hands kneading the soft flesh, savoring the feel of you beneath him.

„Take it bitch!!“ He groaned, holding still before he pulled back out to give you time to breathe.

You gasped, taking a desperate breath, her eyes watering again. He left you with no control at all, and it was both exciting and terrifying. Yet you still wanted this, wanted to give him the best head he’d ever gotten, you simply wanted more.

After a moment, he pulled back before thrusting forward again, his hips pushing into your mouth with increasing rhythm, his moans growing louder with each movement. His hands roamed over your body, pinching and slapping your skin every now and then, sending jolts of sensation through you. As his fingers slid your panties down your legs, they began to tease you gently, toying with you.

You tried your best to take him, determined to please him, to give him everything he wanted. Though you couldn’t moan, your body trembled with every slap, your desire building with each touch. You wanted him, wanted to be the good girl he desired, even as he took so much from you.

He felt his orgasm building again, but he wasn’t ready for it to end. With one final push, he drove into you, then just barely pulled back, taking a few deep breaths to steady himself.

You coughed, not expecting him to pull back so suddenly. Gasping for air, your whole body trembled, your head still hanging over the edge of the bed. Your eyes stayed locked on him as he stood there, a soft but dominant look on his face. You still wanted more, but it was his call. You would take whatever he gave you—you would be whatever he wanted you to be.

When he calmed down again, he grinned and closed the distance, adjusting your body on the mattress. He gently placed your head back on the sheets, hovering over you now. His eyes trailed down your body with appreciation, his fingers softly stroking your jawline.

“You’re such a good girl for me… I thought you’d put up more of a fight,” he teased, his tone dripping with sensuality.

You couldn’t help but shiver at his words. Your head was still spinning from before, and every inch of your body felt painfully sensitive. With your hands bound behind your back, you were completely vulnerable, your wide eyes locked onto his. There was nothing you could do except take whatever he decided to give you.

A mix of helplessness and excitement coursed through you—he was in control, and the contrast between his dominance and his soft, teasing touches was driving you insane. You wanted him to touch you more, to take more, but all you could do was wait, aching for whatever he decided to give next.

„But I think I want more..“

Your heart pounded against your ribs, a sharp, dizzying thrill washing over you. His voice was laced with something dark and possessive, a promise of more—more control, more pleasure, more of him. It sent a shiver down your spine, igniting that familiar ache deep inside you.

You stared up at him, your breath unsteady, your body already on edge from everything he had done to you. You knew he wasn’t asking; he was just waiting to see how much further you’d let him take you. And you would. You knew you would.

Your lips parted slightly, but no words came. Instead, you gave him what he wanted—your silent surrender. You nodded, slow and obedient, offering yourself up without hesitation.

His smirk deepened, eyes dark with satisfaction. He had you exactly where he wanted you.

“You’ve been such a good little slut for me…” His voice was low, gravelly, edged with dark amusement. “I want to know what that pussy feels like. If it‘s as good as those pretty lips.. Do you want me to do that?”

It wasn’t a real question. He knew the answer. He knew exactly what he was doing—teasing, testing, watching you squirm under his gaze.

Heat flooded your cheeks, your breath catching in your throat. He was playing with you, making you admit what you both already knew—you wanted him. Desperately. The ache between your thighs pulsed in time with your racing heartbeat, but your lips refused to form the words.

He smirked, watching you, eyes burning into yours, pinning you in place. You couldn’t look away, couldn’t escape the way he saw right through you—saw the way your body betrayed you, the way your thighs clenched, the way your chest rose and fell in quick, shallow breaths.

His gaze flickered lower, trailing down to your collarbone. Then, without warning, his lips brushed against your skin. A slow, deliberate kiss—warm and possessive.

You inhaled sharply, your body reacting instantly. His breath was hot against you, his mouth lingering, teasing. Every nerve in your body lit up, the anticipation unbearable.

He knew exactly what he was doing, and he was good with his mouth—too good. The heat of his lips against your skin, the slow drag of his tongue, the way he nipped at just the right spots—it was enough to cloud your mind, to drown you in sensation. You were so lost in it that you didn’t even notice him positioning himself between your legs, the head of his cock pressing against your entrance.

Then, without warning, he pushed inside.

“Fuck,” he groaned, his voice thick with desire. “You’re so wet for me.”

Your eyes flew open as the stretch burned through you, your body tensing at the sudden fullness. He was big, and he filled you completely—too much, too deep, stealing your breath. A gasp tore from your lips, turning into a moan as your body adjusted, pleasure mixing with the sharp intensity of it.

He didn’t wait. His hips snapped forward, driving deeper, making you jolt beneath him. Each thrust was slow but deliberate, dragging out the sensation, making sure you felt every inch of him. He was savoring it, taking his time, enjoying the way your body clenched around him.

“So fucking tight,” he murmured, his voice rough, his hands gripping your hips like he never wanted to let go.*

It was maddening. He was giving you just enough to drive you insane—just enough to make you need more, to make you crave it. Your body trembled beneath him, heat pooling low in your stomach, but the words were stuck in your throat. You couldn’t beg, couldn’t demand, could only writhe under him, helpless to his pace, to his control.

And he knew it.

His kisses never stopped, trailing along your collarbone, his lips warm and insistent. Every now and then, his teeth sank into your skin, sharp and deliberate, making you gasp. The sting sent a shudder through your body, but you didn’t pull away—you wanted more. Even when it hurt.

His hips moved with precision, each thrust calculated, each stroke deeper, more purposeful. And then—

He found it.

Your breath hitched, your body tensing as his tip dragged against that spot inside you, the one that turned every thought in your head to static. He felt it—the way you clenched around him, the way your body stiffened—he knew. A smirk ghosted against your skin as his lips pressed into the curve of your neck, victorious.

“There it is,” he murmured, his voice dark and satisfied.

Your body betrayed you completely, trembling, burning up with need. His kisses, his touch, his rhythm—it was overwhelming. You felt yourself slipping further, sinking into him, into the pleasure, until nothing else existed. Just him. Just this.

Your moans grew louder, your back arching, and he used it—used the pleasure to sink his teeth into you harder, to leave his mark. The sharp sting mixed with the drag of his cock, his pace quickening, each thrust pulling a sound from your lips that you couldn’t control.

He was relentless now, pulling almost all the way out before slamming back inside, making you take every inch. Your thoughts blurred, lost in the heat, in the dizzying pleasure, in the way he owned your body completely.

You wanted to touch him—needed to—but your hands were bound, helpless. It frustrated you. It excited you. The restraint only made the desire stronger, made the pleasure burn hotter. You had no control. Only him.

And fuck, you loved it.

He saw it in your eyes—the desperate, frustrated need to touch him, to do something, anything. But you couldn’t. And he knew it. The way your fingers twitched against the restraints, the way your body strained, helpless under him—it only fed his ego, made him smirk. You were unraveling, and he was the one pulling every thread.

“You want to touch me so badly, don’t you?” he murmured, voice dripping with amusement. “Too bad, sweetheart. You’re mine like this.”

He was still holding back, still drawing it out, even as his cock hit that spot over and over, relentless and precise. Your walls clenched around him, your body betraying just how close you were. He could feel it, the way your thighs trembled, the way your breath hitched, the way your moans turned needy and broken.

And then it hit.

Your body arched, the orgasm ripping through you like fire, every muscle tightening as you fought against the ropes, your wrists pulling instinctively—futilely. A pathetic, desperate whimper slipped from your lips, his name tangled in it, pleading and raw. You needed him. More than anything. More than breath. More than reason. You would have done anything he asked in that moment, let him take anything he wanted.

He groaned at the sight of you falling apart beneath him, utterly consumed, and he let you ride it out, let you tremble and writhe, soaking in every second of your undoing.

As the aftershocks left you breathless, he finally slowed, his thrusts turning languid, teasing, drawing out the pleasure until you were panting, your body boneless against the sheets.

“That’s my good girl,” he murmured, his voice smooth, satisfied.

You lay there, trembling, barely able to process anything beyond the feel of him still inside you, the weight of his body hovering over yours. You were exhausted, spent, and yet… you didn’t want him to stop. You never wanted him to stop.

His dark eyes raked over her, drinking in the way her body trembled beneath him, every reaction fueling his desire. Without hesitation, he pulled out, his hands gripping her firmly as he flipped her over, pressing her face into the sheets. Her breath hitched as he positioned her just how he wanted—her back arched, ass lifted, completely at his mercy.

You could do nothing but let him manhandle you into the position he wanted, your body and mind still reeling from the orgasm he had just given you so effortlessly. You closed your eyes, taking a deep breath, the anticipation making your heart race. The silence between you felt heavy, charged with unspoken tension. You could sense his eyes on you, his presence looming, a quiet dominance in the way he waited. Yet there was something playful in it too, like he was enjoying the control, the way you couldn’t help but react to him.

He slapped your ass again—hard. Pushing his cock into your wet folds again, he set a fast pace, gripping your hips firmly as he pistoned into your wetness relentlessly.

Every thrust was getting you overwhelmed by him again, unable to do anything but moan and gasp as he ravaged your body. After all, you did want him to have his fun and use you as he wanted.

Barely able to think anymore, your body started shaking from the impact of his fast thrusts, it felt like you were losing your mind and before you could even open your mouth, the tight knot in your abdomen began to form again, indicating another orgasm approaching.

You were completely lost in the sensations now, every touch, every movement, sending sparks through your body. The fact that you could hardly see him in the corner of your eyes, couldn’t predict what was coming next, only made everything more intense. You felt yourself spiraling, caught in a tide of desire, unable to control the rising heat within you. There was something thrilling about it—the way he could make you lose yourself completely, your orgasm drawing near. You loved the feeling of surrender, of letting him take the lead and knowing you were right there with him, fully in the moment.

His length slid in and out, each thrust grazing that spot inside you, sending jolts of pleasure coursing through your body. Your eyes rolled back as that sweet pressure built, pushing you over the edge—your third orgasm crashing over you. Your walls clenched tight, and the sound of his groan echoed in your ears.

Then, a sharp sting on your ass, the sting of his hand meeting your skin, heightened everything. The pleasure intensified, sending ripples of heat through your core. His thrusts grew desperate, sloppy, but his grip on your hips only tightened, fingers sinking deep into your flesh, keeping you in place almost painfully.

With one final thrust, he came with a guttural moan, his release filling you completely as he held you in place, muscles trembling under his control.

He slowed, then stopped completely, his body pressing against her ass as he took several deep breaths, savoring the moment. Slowly, he pulled his half-hard cock out of her, his gaze lingering on her body, admiring the work he’d done. His eyes roamed over her form for a beat, as if reveling in the power he held over her.

She collapsed onto the bed, her body trembling from the overstimulation. She could feel his eyes on her—burning, possessive—staring at her from behind. It made her acutely aware of her helplessness, of the fact that she was completely at his mercy. Though exhausted and spent, a strange sense of fulfillment settled deep within her, knowing that she had pleased him.

He stood up, his footsteps slow and deliberate as he walked to the bathroom. When he returned, it was with a warm, wet towel in hand. He gently cleaned her, the heat of the towel contrasting with the cool air of the room. She winced when he passed it over her overstimulated clit, her body trembling in response, and he chuckled deeply at the sound of her soft gasp.

Despite her exhaustion, the warmth of the towel felt soothing—each touch, even the slightest, sent waves of sensitivity coursing through her. She couldn’t even look at him as he cleaned her, her body quivering with every delicate motion. It was as though she was going to melt under his care, both overwhelmed and content in the aftermath.

When he was done, he tossed the towel to the floor, his hands moving to loosen the knots on the rope that had bound her.

The feeling of the ropes loosening against her skin was a relief—her shoulders and arms had started to go numb, and the sensation of freedom was almost intoxicating. She closed her eyes and let out a soft moan, savoring the return of feeling in her limbs.

“Tired?” he asked, his voice low and calm, as he casually lay back on the bed, crossing his ankles. He flicked open his Zippo, lighting the cigarette between his lips, the glow casting a dim light over his features.

She nodded, too exhausted to move, let alone sit up. She stayed where she was, her face half pressed into the sheets, staring at the wall across from her. The soft clink of the Zippo flicking open and the smell of tobacco smoke filled the room. She inhaled deeply, the scent oddly familiar and soothing, grounding her in the moment.

He took a deep drag, holding the smoke in his lungs, his eyes still on her, watching through the haze as she lay there, drained of every last ounce of energy. His gaze was possessive, like he could see right through her, enjoying the way she looked after everything.

“You can stay the night if you want,” he said coolly, his tone flat, betraying no emotion.

She slowly opened her eyes, the words echoing in her mind as she processed them. She wasn’t sure what to say—was there even a right response? What did he expect her to say? But one thing she was certain of: she had no energy left to go home, not even enough to stand. She barely had the strength to nod.

He smoked silently, his eyes roaming over her naked form, his gaze admiring her without shame. She remained there, too exhausted to move, and it wasn’t long before she drifted off to sleep, her body shutting down in a deep, peaceful surrender. She didn’t even have the strength to pull the blanket over herself.

Her eyes fluttered closed, and within moments, she was asleep, her body relaxed and her face softly pressed against the sheets. He watched her, taking in every detail—how utterly spent she was, how vulnerable she looked. He enjoyed it all, every aspect of it, and in the quiet of the room, he knew—he wasn’t done with her yet.

A/N: Also potential a second part coming I guess...

Tagging: @mokshaofficial @nyxxnoir

[metal-sludge]

Profiles of LED ZEPPELIN (1968 - present) | METAL MUSCLE, July 1988.

[atsuusaan]

FEM LEPPARD part #idk i just like drawing them as women😓

[r0ckst-4r]

The TRAIN I would let them run on me

[nyxxnoir]

Such a cute picture.

[bbybluemochi]

new OC🎸!

my friend @onzze and I are combining our mutual obsession with 80s classic rock bands with our love for lesbians, so we're creating a fictional band full of them!!!

[negativegrl]

shirts that go hard: rock n' roll edition

[dadaonice]

Siouxsie Sioux graffiti in Bogotá, Colombia.

[possible-streetwear]

[rock-n-roll-queen]

I am pleased to inform you that one Axl fic is about to be uploaded tomorrow (if everything goes smoothly.) i also forgot who i was supposed to tag, if i was supposed to tag anyone. Apologies for that. I have bad memory 😅

But it‘s already at about 14 k words. I‘m sorry I seem to be getting worse at keeping it short. 😫

With that I wish you a pleasant evening and a good night. 😘🌙

[persephone-nymph]

The Police, NYC, 1978, photographed by Lynn Goldsmith

[elextric-eye]

Happy Birthday, Starman

David Bowie, 08/01/1947

[bbybluemochi]

[oc] meet the drummer of my fictional rock band! 🔥